“Here.” I reached around the heated showcase and took a sausage, breaking it into manageable bits, and gave some to Pandora. She was mollified instantly. That was more than I could do for Jim.
“Take me,” he said. “If I had sense, would I be here? No,” he answered himself. “There I was—sitting pretty. I drove a bus for London Transport. All shut away, safelike, from the bleedin’ passengers. But did I appreciate it? No.”
He was doing fine, asking and answering the questions himself. I leaned back and let him get on with it.
“No, I wanted more money, I wanted to drive someplace besides London. I was so bloody daft I even thought it would be nice to meet the passengers and get a chance to chat them up. Gaarh!”
“It hasn’t been so bad, has it?” I really wanted to know. “Before this particular tour group, I mean?”
“One like this is all you need to put you on the turn,” he said. “I thought that dirty great plaster cast might slow her down, but it hasn’t. Not a bit. Do you know what she did this morning? Gawdstrewth—she pinched me!” He brooded into his drink.
“Tomorrow.” It was the one rallying cry I had to cheer the troups with. “Tomorrow they’ll be gone. Concentrate on that. Two more drives. Back to London this afternoon, and then out to Heathrow in the morning, and we’re free of them. They’ll all go back where they came from, and you can relax.”
“Relax?” He was bitter. “And ’ow about that drive back to London? I mean, ’ow about that blond bint wiv the car? I don’t go a bundle on playing ‘Chase-me-Charlie’ down Watling Street wiv that nutter again.”
He had an excellent point there. I wasn’t too anxious to be in any bus that Daphne was playing tag with, either. I’d rather have Jim driving drunk than Daphne sober.
“I’ll try to speak to her,” I said. One word from me and she’d do as she pleased, but I hoped I sounded authoritative enough to put Jim’s mind at rest. Meanwhile, it might be a good idea to get some food into him. Cheese and pickled onions might be tasty, but I doubted their effectiveness as blotting paper.
“Let’s go and join the others for lunch,” I suggested. “Do you know where we’re eating?”
“Hotel up the road and around the corner.” He gestured. “You go. I’ll stop ’ere.”
That was just what I was trying to avoid. It took me some time, but I managed to persuade him to accompany me.
Lunch was leisurely and uneventful. There was a certain amount of discussion about the sights already covered. Mostly, they were looking forward to the remainder of the day. With delicate regard for aching feet, the afternoon schedule after shopping called for a “Ride Through Rural England,” afternoon tea, and “Return to London.” After a solid morning through cathedral, ruins, and museum, this was just about everyone’s speed. Including mine. As someone has noted somewhere before, culture is very hard on the feet. I had to admire Neil’s grasp of psychology.
I admired it even more later that afternoon when I saw the tearoom. It was so Olde Worlde it was like dining in a display case in a museum. I wondered if he’d had it built to order. The actual tea, however, was well above standard for such places and the service was excellent.
There was even a telephone. Neil was still among the missing, but I managed to get hold of Gerry this time. He was in a better mood than I was, but I soon fixed that.
“No, I don’t know where Daphne is,” he said, a bit warily. “Why should I know? I’m meeting her for dinner tonight. Other than that, what she does all day is her business. I’ve been working—I think we’ve landed a new account. It’s—”
“Daphne’s here,” I told him. There was time to hear the rest later. “Daphne appears to have joined the tour—adopted it, in fact. She’s been dogging our footsteps all day, and if she doesn’t give some of them a heart attack with her driving, we’ll be lucky.”
“There? What’s she doing there?”
“I just told you. She’s giving the customers a collective nervous breakdown, playing motorway leapfrog with our bus.”
“She’s doing that?” I could sense Gerry’s shudder. “Daphne is mucking up our meal tickets?” He seemed to find it hard to believe that she had put herself so far beyond the pale. He always did take the kindest view of everyone. Obviously, he had never looked at Daphne closely—and seldom in daylight.
“She is tearing them into tiny, nerve-wracked shreds,” I assured him. “Which is nothing to what she’s doing to our driver, who’s had to try to dodge her.”
“But—that’s serious,” Gerry said incredulously. “Daphne shouldn’t be doing that.”
“Precisely.” Agreed at last. “But she is.”
“Is she there? Call her to the telephone. Let me talk to her for a minute.” He sounded as though he really thought he could persuade her into being reasonable. Still, it was worth a try.
I turned from the phone just in time to see a flash of yellow at eye level as Daphne dashed past, followed by Donna and Horace. I called to her, wrenching the door open, and collided with Penny, who was also moving in that direction.
“Here”—Penny thrust Pandora into my arms—“I’m going with them.” She glared at me accusingly. “You said everything was under control!”
“It is,” I said. “My God—isn’t it?” Something in her attitude set the alarm bells jangling again.
“Oh, I might have known you were too calm,” she wailed.
“What’s the matter? Tell me!” Outside, the motor of the white Lancia revved up wildly.
“I can’t stop,” Penny said. “Telephone my mother, that’s all. Just telephone my mother.”
“Why? What should I tell her?” But she was already dashing away.
“Telephone her,” her voice came floating back to me, “when you find out what it’s all about.”
I hung up on Gerry quickly, barely registering his promise to meet us at the hotel and deal with Daphne severely. In Gerry’s vocabulary, this simply meant taking her to a cheaper restaurant as a sign of disapproval. Gerry is so subtle that some of his birds have been on his blacklist for months and never realised it until they found themselves walking down the aisle on the arm of some old school chum he’d introduced them to. At such moments, you could see a faint puzzled light in their eyes, as though they wondered how the groom they’d planned on had been switched at the last minute.
Hoisting Pandora to my shoulder, I rejoined the others cautiously. To my relief, nothing untoward seemed to have taken place. They were all filing out to the bus again and appeared quite pleased with their tea. If there was any disaster I had to telephone and report to Penny’s mother, I couldn’t see what it was.
“Have I missed anything?” They looked at me oddly. “I mean, I saw Daphne and the kids go tearing past. I thought perhaps—” I paused, hoping I wasn’t going to have to finish that sentence.
“They’ve gone ahead.” Fortunately, Hortense answered. “My Horace is going to drive for a while, to keep that girl from trying to kill herself, and us with her. The girls have gone along to keep them company. With all of them in the car, they can persuade her not to drive so fast. It was Horace’s idea,” she added smugly. “He’s very clever.”
Jim was looking a great deal more cheerful. It was obvious that he was taking a new lease on life with Daphne out of the way. For a fleeting moment I wondered if he’d had anything to do with packing the kids off to ride herd on her. Then I saw his eyes slide uneasily toward Paula. No, if he’d had anything to do with it, he’d have got rid of Paula, too.
Paula looked as though she were going to say something to contest Hortense’s claim for Horace’s cleverness, but she seemed to change her mind. She just looked thoughtful.
They filed aboard the bus. I was almost the last aboard—and then I leaped the steps without even touching them as Jim smiled at me grimly.
She’d pinched me, too.
It was a peaceful ride back to London. The tourists were semicomatose from all that fresh air and their heavy tea. Without Da
phne, there were no sudden stops or jerks.
Even I relaxed and stopped worrying about what Penny could have been hinting at so darkly. Obviously, she meant I was to phone her mother in case they met with an accident. But if Daphne wasn’t driving, they were fairly safe. I didn’t know how well Horace drove, but he couldn’t have been worse than Daphne. If Daphne did regain the driving wheel, there were three of them to insist that she drive at a reasonable speed. There seemed to be nothing to worry over. Feeling almost like a tourist myself, I half-dozed on the way back to London.
Gerry was in the lobby when we entered the hotel. He looked at us all sharply, counting heads, but not finding the one he sought.
“Where’s Daphne?” he demanded.
“On her way,” I said.
“Why isn’t she here yet?” The answer didn’t satisfy him. “She should have been here ahead of you. She drives faster than that—even when she’s being careful.”
“I shouldn’t be surprised”—Professor Tablor had come up behind us—“but what they’ve stopped off somewhere along the way.” He chuckled indulgently. “That was probably the idea of the whole thing. It can’t be much fun for the kids, stuck with a bunch of old codgers like us day in and day out. They’ve probably sneaked off to a discotheque for a couple of hours.”
It was a reasonable theory, but I suddenly heard those bells crescendo again. It was too reasonable—Penny wouldn’t have been so upset if that were all that was in the wind.
The party divided, some going upstairs to their rooms, some lingering hopefully near Gerry and me, as though we might suggest some fresh diversion for them. Fortunately, I knew that they were booked for Covent Garden that evening, so I didn’t have too much of a conscience about ignoring them. Perhaps they’d take the hint and go away.
“She must be along soon.” Gerry sat down firmly on the sofa. “She knows we have theatre tickets and it takes her a good hour to get ready. She’ll be here any minute.”
I sat down beside him, wondering why I didn’t believe it. Perhaps because it was too pat. I found that I hadn’t really believed that we were going to end this assignment so smoothly for some time now. But I could not say just when that nagging certainty of disaster had set in.
Through the plate-glass doors of the lobby, I could see Kate and Jim in conference on the pavement. Kate had the Covent Garden tickets, I knew, and Jim would drive them there and collect them after the performance. It was a 5:30 matinee and they’d have dinner afterward and be back at the hotel in time to pack for the morning departure. Although the plane officially left at 11:30, they had to check in at the airport an hour ahead of that, and if I knew Neil, he’d allow them plenty of time to get to the airport. At latest, they’d be leaving the hotel at 9:45.
Everything was under control, so why were my nerves strung up to screaming pitch?
Screaming. At first, I thought I’d cracked under the strain, then realised I could never hit a note that high. A series of short, sharp shrieks was coming from the direction of the descending lift, while a high banshee wailing was approaching via the staircase.
Hortense and Paula converged on the lobby at approximately the same moment and headed toward me.
“My baby!” Hortense shrieked. “My baby!”
“They’ve gone,” Paula howled. “That dirty, rotten little Limey bitch is driving them to Gretna Green. They’ve eloped! You’ve got to do something!”
Chapter 13
Pandora awoke, startled and muttering crossly, moved over to Gerry’s shoulder, as though it might be more peaceful over there. Kate and Jim hurried into the lobby, their faces anxious. The other members of the tour began gathering around us.
“Do something,” Hortense took up the cry. “That terrible creature has got her clutches on my baby.”
“My baby,” Paula countered sharply, “has been snatched away by that appalling lout. They’ll be married if we don’t hurry.”
“Ladies, ladies,” I said, “don’t panic—” One of them hit me. It was too fast for me to be able to say which one, so I decided to rise above it.
“Nothing can happen that quickly,” I said, shaking my head to clear it. “They changed that ruling years ago. It’s just like the rest of Britain now. You have to establish residency for three weeks before you can get married in Gretna Green.” (Trust Daphne, I thought grimly, not to know that. She’d been filling their heads with romantic notions that had no basis in reality.)
“What are they talking about?” Gerry appealed to me. He knew but didn’t want to admit the knowledge to himself.
“Daphne”—I made him face it squarely—“is helping Donna and Horace to elope. She had no intention of coming back to London tonight—none of them did.”
Suddenly, it was crystal clear. The way Daphne had made a deliberate nuisance, not to say menace, of herself on the roads. So that everyone would welcome the idea of the kids going off with her to try to keep her out of our way.
That—another light dawned—was what Penny had been trying to tell me.
“You mean”—Gerry’s voice was hushed with the enormity of it all—“that Daphne has been interfering with our clients?”
“She’s been just about as interfering as she can get,” I assured him.
“Go after them,” Paula shrieked. “We’ve got to catch them and stop them.”
“Yes.” For once, Hortense was in agreement with Paula. “We’ve got to stop them. Now!”
“Easy, girls, easy.” Professor Tablor tried to intervene. “It isn’t that bad, now. You heard what Douggie said. They can’t get married there for three weeks.”
“Yes,” Hortense said darkly, “but what will they be doing during those three weeks?”
“That depends”—I tried for a note of cheerful sanity—“on the way you’ve brought them up, doesn’t it?”
This time, they both hit me. It was nice, I supposed, that they agreed about something at last. If the worst happened, there’d be at least one meeting point at future family reunions. They could sit together and curse the son-of-a-bitch Limey who’d been partly responsible for it all.
With glazed detachment, I saw a chip of plaster from Paula’s cast slide down my face and into my breast pocket. I was cad enough to hope that it had hurt her worse than it had hurt me, although that would have taken some doing. That cast was heavy—there was every chance I had a concussion. If she hadn’t at least dislocated the broken arm trying to mend inside that cast, there was no justice.
Kate and Jim had closed with the situation now and were trying to sort it out. Hortense and Paula were still broadcasting on ultrahigh frequency. In a minute, we were going to be asked to leave the lobby, if not the hotel.
“We’ve got to find them. Stop them!” Paula was gesturing with that broken arm, the cast coming perilously close to clonking someone else. She didn’t seem to be in any pain at all; there was obviously no justice.
On the other hand, I didn’t seem to be concussed, after all. It was rather a pity. I could have used a good concussion and the honourable withdrawal to a darkened room and the peace and quiet it would have provided.
As it was, I’d just have to get up and struggle on.
“If we could catch up with them before they get to Gretna Green,” Kate said thoughtfully, “that would be best. Once they cross that border, they’ve all of Scotland to disappear in.”
It was basically correct, but not a thought I would have voiced aloud. Winnie and Billie Mae moved restively, as though reminded of another missing member of the tour.
“Come on,” Paula said. “What are we waiting for? Let’s get going!”
“Hurry!” Hortense urged. It was something else they were finally agreed upon.
“I don’t know,” Kate looked dubious. “I’ll have to call Neil—”
“If you get him, let me know.” I moved toward the sedan chair phone box with her. Jim came along, too.
“I don’t know,” he said. “I don’t think I can stand it. The thought of
getting rid of them for a few hours tonight was all that kept me going today.”
“Think what will happen if they don’t catch up with the kids,” I said. “They’ll cancel their return flight—Hortense and Paula will, at least. You’ll have them around for days more, perhaps weeks.”
“’Strewth!” He paled.
“And they’ll expect Larkin’s Luxury Tours to take care of them all the way.” Ruthlessly I pressed home the advantage. “A private chauffeur, at least, to drive them around Scotland looking for the kids. They already know you—and you know how Americans love to stick with someone they know.”
I wouldn’t have thought it possible, but he went even paler. “We’ve got to do something.” He caught up with the consensus in one giant stride. “We’ve got to catch those little bleeders before they get away.”
Over his shoulder, I could see Kate dialing desperately once more. Wherever Neil was, we couldn’t wait much longer to contact him. We were going to have to take this decision on our own.
It seemed to me that there was something I ought to do about telephoning, but my head had settled down to a deep, insistent throbbing, and it was more than I could face. How could I ring up Penny’s mother and break it to her that her daughter had decamped with an eloping couple and might not surface again for three weeks? That’s the sort of news mothers are notoriously unsympathetic about receiving. I couldn’t face the questions—especially when I didn’t have any explanations.
“I can’t get him.” Kate came out of the sedan chair with a harassed look. “The operator tried, too. There’s no one there.”
“And there are too many here,” Jim muttered.
“We’ll have to get started,” I reminded them, “if we want to get out of London ahead of the rush-hour traffic. If we get caught in that, we’ll be delayed for hours.”
“I suppose,” she agreed reluctantly, “there’s really nothing else to do.”
“Not unless Larkin’s Luxury Tours wants a lawsuit for damages on its hands,” I assured her. “Paula may not be able to collect, but it could cost everyone a lot in time and money while she tried.”
Tourists Are for Trapping Page 12
